After a few moments, he seemed to come back to himself. He looked at Julien, and his eyes refocused. “I really am sorry for what I said. About you and about Martha. That was uncalled for of me. I’m sorry I said it, and yet ... I think that hearing me say something so callous and hurtful shocked me enough to wake me up and force me to accept the truth for what it is. As we say in the book world, it’s time to start a newchapter. For both of us.” He sighed. “I don’t think you’re mindless. In fact, I have every confidence you’re going to be a very competent and successful leader for everyone here at King.”
Julien sucked in a sharp breath.
“I’ve been fighting it a long time, but I finally accept that it’s past time I hand over the reins.” John clapped his son on the back, squeezing his shoulder. “Congratulations, Julien King, CEO and President of King Publishing.”
28
Julien followed the directions on the GPS around another bend in the curvy mountain road. His hands were slightly clammy as he gripped the steering wheel, and he wished he could blame the queasiness in his stomach on motion sickness, but he knew the unmoored feeling inside of him was due to something else entirely.
On one of the brightest days of his career, the culmination of everything he’d worked toward his entire adult life, there was a single shadow. One that grew and loomed more ominous with every mile he drove toward Little Creek. Because he was going to have to tell Martha. His dream might have been fulfilled that day, but the cost was high and it was personal and it meant Squire wouldn’t be publishing her books because Squire was closing.
His dad had finally been ready and willing to listen. To everything. Market analysis. Profit/loss history as well as projections for the next five years based off current numbers. In-house consolidation and restructuring visions. Julien’s vision for King Publishing moving forward.
They’d talked about Grandma, her life and legacy. Julien had told his dad about going to Signal Point and how being there had reminded him of her instruction to look for signsfrom God. In a moment of vulnerability, he’d asked his dad if they could honor Grandma by praying together. His dad had agreed that that would be a legacy his mother would approve of. There, in his office, they’d knelt and prayed.
Afterward, they both agreed that they felt lighter. They’d also come to an agreement, finally, and had decided it was time to begin dismantling the imprint, no matter how much it hurt their hearts to do so. They’d had Mrs. Schneider add the item to the agenda for the board meeting the next day, but the vote was only a formality. The board had been pressing for closure for a while now.
How would Martha take the news? Before reason had a chance to overrule catastrophizing, he’d pictured her saying she wanted nothing to do with him. That he’d hurt her more than his father had years ago and that she could never be with a man who didn’t support her dreams. Her feelings were hurt beyond repair, their first real date had been ruined before it had ever begun, and he would spend the rest of his life alone, wondering how he could’ve handled the situation better.
Thankfully his good sense hadn’t taken too long to step in. Martha was reasonable. She’d been the one to ask him what he wanted back in Florida. What he would do if his dad wasn’t playing puppet master. She already knew that, if given the decision, he’d close Squire instead of trying to resurrect the imprint. She’d be disappointed, but he didn’t think she’d react rashly.
Besides, even though Squire would no longer be publishing her books, he was determined to see them in print. He planned to reach out to editors at other houses. One of them was smart enough to want to snatch up the manuscripts and Martha’s creative genius. It would happen. He was sure of it. She’d just have to wait a little longer.
He turned his vehicle onto a long driveway. Where he’d been cruising within the forest a moment ago, now green pastures spread out on either side of him. A horse lifted itshead from where it was grazing behind a wooden fence to watch him drive by. There was a stable at the end of one of the pastures, and Julien pulled over his Range Rover to park in front of it, per Martha’s instructions.
Turning off the vehicle, he stepped out and looked around. It was a nice piece of property. He could see why Martha liked living there.
He was just walking toward the open barn door when Martha stepped out. She was wearing a pair of fitted jeans tucked into knee-high boots and a chunky amber-colored cardigan perfect for fall.
“You look lovely,” he said as he bent down to give her a quick hug hello. He was affectionate by nature, and now that there wasn’t anything standing in his way, he planned on allowing himself small touches like these.
She blushed as she accepted his compliment and his quick embrace.
He looked around again, this time taking in the interior of the stable. It was clean and organized, with stalls for twelve horses and two closed doors that he would guess were the tack and feed rooms. A flight of stairs off to the side led to a second story. Martha’s apartment.
“I like your place,” he said, meaning it. There was a calm peacefulness about the property.
“Do you want a quick tour?”
He shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Sure.”
She walked backward a few steps until she stood in front of the first stall. A black horse poked its head over the door and sniffed at Martha.
“No treats today, Titus.” She stroked his velvety nose, then reached out and scratched behind one of his ears. “A lot of the horses love apples, but Titus’s favorite fruit is pears.” Martha introduced him to all the horses, offering a little tidbit about each one.
“Do you ride?” she asked.
Julien shook his head. “We never had horses on our property, as you know. Mom’s afraid of them. I remember doing a trail ride once at summer camp and thinking it was fun, but I haven’t had an opportunity to ride again since then.”
“Would you want to?”
He looked at the large animal in the stall behind her. The idea of being alone with Martha in the woods on horseback appealed to him. “Yeah, I think I would.”
She smiled softly at him, then led him up the stairs, opened the door, and stepped aside so he could peek in. “Thisis my place.”
He looked around because it seemed she wanted him to. The space was small but cozy. A kitchenette just past the entrance had bar stools tucked up under the counter. There wasn’t a dining room, so that must be where she ate her meals. A love seat big enough for two people marked where the living room was, and a bookcase divided the space, with the bed set up on the other side along the opposite wall.
Julien turned to Martha. She was watching him intently, as if she was invested in whatever his reaction to her space was.
